June 30 ’16

It used to bug me a little.
Well I mean, it would sit in my mind.
In the corner there, the section.
Where my to-be-contemplateds sit.
Waiting in line for their turn… it got it’s.

I don’t care who you are anymore.
I don’t care if you’re rising fame, a superstar…
Logic hesitates, resists, but I still Love you.
Can’t lie or deny, even if from the naked eye,
I appear as starstruck, caught up in dreaminess.

Na…this Love is real, genuine, psychic, deep, real.

I don’t care anymore.
I can’t let it get to me.
I know what I know, when you’re standing there.
With nothing but yourself, in the raw.
When you’re standing there bare naked, just you.

It used to bug me a little, sit there.
To think that I can’t hold you.
To think you’ll leave on an airplane.
Off into the skies, into the world of stars.
To feel such Love, then stretch it til it tugs, hurts.

Across cities, provinces, states…time… Ouch.

I don’t really care anymore, I don’t feel a ways.
I found a new light, new look, view.
That’s healthier, more fulfilling.
Perhaps more twistedly romantic?
It’s still in the to-be-comtemplated.

No one else makes me feel more like me.
No one else captivates, invades my mind more than you.
Sneaks in and steals the show when I think of another man.
Your vibration is potent, I long for it daily.
I don’t care anymore, I surrender to whatever this is.

Relentless, haunting, reinvading, unquitting, unvanishing, blissful, heavenly Love…I surrender.


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